Gaunt & Miserable

Dad was sitting gaunt and miserable in his chair. The Valentine decorations were shining in the sun, the light passing through the red candy-like lights in his window. I didn’t think I would last until lunch. I had brought juice boxes for Mirabelle and decided to see if dad wanted some juice. He did. The abscess or indentation at the side of his head looks deeper, but I cannot tell for sure.

The PSW told me that he was not eating breakfast. The last time I visited they told me he ate a good breakfast, but usually only had one good meal a day. She wanted to mash up his food, as staff think he isn’t able to chew it. He refused to take pills from her. She asked if I would give it a try. He refused again. The pills were ground up and put into a spoonful of applesauce or pudding to make it more palatable. He had been chewing his pills for that past month. They are quite creative in figuring out how to encourage him to take these meds: ground up in applesauce, pudding or snuck on a spoon. Bless them every one!

I told the nurse that I thought dad needed to see that he was eating real food, today it was ham, and I didn’t think he wanted it minced. Only old, sick people have that done for them! I was right. Dad refused to eat any of his meal. Dessert was another story. “He’s a great dessert eater!” one staffer told me.

Today I gave dad a Ghiardelli chocolate when I arrived. Brian and I visited San Francisco, where these chocolates are made, back when we could more freely travel and take weekends away. They were on sale after Christmas and I knew that my dad was worth it! It was a terrific visit to a lovely tourist area. The chocolate factory has a large sign, unmistakable to those visitors who are keen on such tours. We took a boat tour of the harbour, strolled around the boardwalk visiting expensive, but entertaining shops.

Brian bought me my football ring there. We spotted a beautiful ring, carved from bone, surrounded by turquoise stones. He asked if he could buy it for me, in exchange he wanted to follow the 6 football games on the next weekend. What could I say? He bought me a wonderful, multi-coloured long wrap that I wear frequently to the nursing home. The senior ladies ooh and aah when I dress up in overstated clothes. I am happy to be the focus of their attention.

The San Fran visit was a fond memory of times when weekends away did not make me crazy. I worry so that dad will need me. It is hard to balance family in this sandwich generation. Once my father passes away we will be able to travel, aside from the cats. When the good weather comes back we will be able to invite friends, too. I miss them a great deal. Our big trips to the small towns around make us happy. We have found favourite restaurants, many closed in January to give staff a much-needed break. I know spring will come.

Long Term Care Act: Bill 140

Another meeting has called me. Today the Family Council for Leisureworld was meeting. These councils must exist, according to Ontario Ministry of Health and Long Term Care legislation. I thought I would attend, since Brian had physiotherapy in town. I came out of the meeting the Chair of the Council. It would keep me focused and give me some real work to do. They are advisory boards to be a voice for those who could not voice their own issues. It was made up of family members of residents. Before the meeting I popped in to see what dad was up to – he was asleep. A worker told me he had refused breakfast.

The meeting went well. They have some concerns about the new LHIN committee and the legislation: Bill 140, the Ontario Long Term Home Care Act. Typical of politicians: they dream up new rules, with no money to support the institutions, which must fulfill the new policies. The bill was created because of a media release of a videotaped physical abuse incident. Again, a knew-jerk reaction to an event - the politicians must not do something worthwhile, they simply must be seen doing something about a problem. They want to rush this legislation through and have given little time for discussion. There would be a provincial election soon. The legislation was put forward by one person, given the task of coming up with a plan, she responded with something to make the politicians look good.

Bill 140 demands more vigilance, more red tape and more rules. If staff was not already following the rules, then what was to prevent them from doing the same or worse, despite more threats of funding cuts? Ontario standards provide for 2.5 hours of care per day per resident but this lags behind Manitoba and Saskatchewan, who both have over 3 hours per day per. Staff are already hard pressed to meet demands.

Issues revolve around the lack of staff.

mobility issues & lifts

When I arrived today dad was in his room, beside the TV, which was on. I worry that they waste a lot of electricity. PSWs take folks to the cafeteria and leave on the televisions. With all they have to do, I guess this isn’t high on the priority list. I cannot change the world, but we work so hard to educate the children in schools. It is hard to know when to shut up and when to speak!


Dad was nodding on and off. He tries to find something to talk about but cannot. He says to me, “I want to go lie on the couch!” nodding towards the bed. Staff is just realizing that if he misses a meal it is not such a big deal. He is very tired. I kept sitting with him, unsure what to do. I could hit the call button and ask them to put him to bed. I waited a bit as I thought about what to do. They are so concerned about meal times. He asked again a bit later and so I hit the call button. When the nurse came I explain that he’d asked to go to bed. We need to respect his wishes. She told me he’d had a good breakfast and often only had one good meal a day. I was trying to figure this out. If she was on day shift it meant she wasn’t there for dinner. Still, she says she’d get help to pop him into bed.

She came back with someone and they lifted him up using the ‘arm under an armpit’ technique. It is amazing to see. It is a task that requires two, as I have said. They are well-trained and strong. I feel as if I have people on my side, trying to cope.

I propped up his bed to a sitting position. He slept. I had brought his lunch from the kitchen, but he didn’t want it. It was a salad and an interesting pizza with a deep crust. Since I had missed lunch I ate it. I was embarrassed when I took his dishes back to the kitchen and the staff member commented on all he had eaten. I corrected her, feeling rather silly. She smiled!

I sat for a while and read beside his bed. I wanted to see what he was doing. I wasn’t in a rush and felt good just being close with no pressure and no yelling. He seemed to wake after about fifteen minutes of drifting away to Neverneverland. He looked at his window and at my new decorations. The sun shone on his face. Look towards the light, dad. I had removed the Christmas decorations and left the angel on the suction cup. On the suction cups from the Christmas lights I had put the string of heart-shaped light. They require two batteries and didn’t work anymore, but they twinkled when the sun shone through. I put up a sign with a cupid and the word LOVE on it. It is cheery and shows that someone cares. Dad seemed to like it, but who knows for sure?

Dad woke a couple times more- fifteen minutes apart. His noun retrieval is terrible and I am hard-pressed to figure out what it is that he is trying to say. He seems to wonder if he can do something for me, but it is peaceful to read and sit quietly. I am reading a book called, Pink Ribbon, Inc., which demonstrates how much big business is milking the donor-fatigued public for big bucks in the name of cancer research. Do we need research or do we need help in dealing with the disease? The Cancer Society drivers were so good to mom and dad, and were incredibly necessary. We know what causes cancers, to a certain extent, and can change our lifestyle, watch our diets, exercise, but eventually old age gets you. All of these seniors need help in this nursing home. I shudder to think what will happen when baby boomers end up taking so much space.

A little later on, a PSW popped her head in to make sure dad was breathing. Her name is May. We chatted a bit. She told me that dad was flirting with her this morning. As they got him cleaned up, his adult diaper changed and clean clothes on, he was asking for kisses and talking to the staff. It seems his hearing comes and goes, although I think it is his lip-reading skills. In a loud voice he would ask them, “What are you doing to me?” They would reassure them that they just needed to get him into his wheelchair and up for breakfast. He wanted a drink then, but they told him he had to go to breakfast, which he ate up. He came to her to shake her hand and then she gave him a hug.